What Your Mirror Thinks of You
by randomly-placed-herbs
Summary: While splitting up for an ammo and health sweep, Rebecca can't help but gaze off and think about the things that've happened. All of her thoughts have begun to weigh heavily on her, but Billy knows exactly how to help. It only takes a small conversation from her partner to help get her rolling again.


"I can do this; _I can survive_." It had been thoughts like that which kept Rebecca Chambers going through all of the gore and fear of the accursed mansion she was trapped in. She was at her near breaking point both physically and mentally. Her side had been slashed by a Hunter, she had nearly been bit by carriers more times than she'd care to admit. The nights events were weighing down heavily on the girl, what started out as a confident stride turned into a slowed walk of caution and apprehension. What really _didn't _help her situation was the rough fall she'd taken while avoiding a leech man. And Billy, her poor partner had it even worse than her. Thank God she was a medic, but even with her training it just didn't seem to be enough. There wasn't an herb out there that would heal her splitting headache. Her head still hurt from bumping it on the unforgiving ceramic tile floor. And no first aid sprays to calm the racing thoughts or the tingling in her trigger finger. Even though she had felt nervous and a bit too warm on the helicopter ride towards the wilderness—that was all gone now, her nerves turned into fright; her warmth dissipated by the seemingly ever present cold draft of air that licked her skin, like the icy winds of the last layer of hell. Not to mention the fact that she could still feel the sticky residue from the leeches slime on her skin and clothes.

Rebecca numbly nodded her head, staring at herself through the cracked and dusty mirror that rested against the dresser opposite where she sat on the bed. She whispered comforting words to herself lowly, "I'm strong, I'm here." She had been silently repeating those types of phrases for so long they had nearly lost all their intended meaning. They were no longer those silent reassurances that she truly wanted, but rather, it was support where she actually needed it. It was like a near instantaneous metamorphosis had occurred. To think, the last time she had looked this closely at herself in the mirror had merely been hours ago, but they felt a lifetime away. It was true, it _was _a lifetime away. She had always been by the books, a naturally independent girl who had thought that running through every situation in her head, without ever actually experiencing it, would do wonders to help her out in the field. By the books doesn't mean shit when you're in the real scenario. It's not as simple as it looks either, especially when you're faced with a dangerous situation—when your life or others _actually _depends on the actions you make at that moment. You tend to not think as clearly. Quick fixes, quick fix—too overcome with foolish thoughts of heroicity; too blinded by the achingly primeval need to survive. You race to try and find a solution without really caring about the consequences that stem from your moves. Run to save your team, take a bullet for the one you love. That is, until you're out of immediate danger and you're left with only your thoughts. Half unconscious from the drunken haze like fog that hovers over you, you can't breathe as easy with so many thoughts weighing down on your chest. From that point on you dissect every little bit of detail from what you've experienced. Every possible scenario runs through your thoughts yet again—but this time you know what to expect, you know your ability. There's no doubting what _could _have happened had you already known what to expect. And it's here that Rebecca sits, _what ifs_ running rampant through her mind. One thing that Billy had helped her come to realize was her true strength. She could've never made it through without his help. Escaped murderer or not; she owed him her life. The same could but said for Billy, except reversed. She felt confident, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel so damn small compared to what was going on around her.

"Report your location, I've finished up re-checking the rooms to the left, you were right—there were lots of things we missed on our first sweep through, over." Billy's voice sounded as tired as she felt. He snapped her back to their shared nightmare, the horror house she didn't even want to be in felt all too real in that snap back. She breathed heavily before giving back her position.

"Back in the scientist's bedroom, I haven't finished my sweep." She drawled out before pausing to chuckle lightly—embarrassed by her own zoning out. Before she could say anything else, the bedroom door opened fast. It wasn't given a thought; it was a natural reaction now. It was burned into the young medics brain that yes; the world _was _out to get you, and the only way to be certain that nothing tried to kill you was to aim whatever weapon you had and hope you had a chance. A zombie, a Hunter, the Leech Man? No, it was only Billy—thank God it was only Billy. His face shifted from the normal pissed-off, I'm-too-cool-for-you look to one of relief.

"'Becca, you alright?" Billy closed the door quietly behind him. Rebecca lowered her gun.

"You want honesty or the answer that will get us moving again?" She moved her eyes from the mirror towards Billy. "Honesty will do." Billy insisted, tossing a half empty box of parabellum rounds towards Rebecca. She caught it and easily placed it into one of the pockets on her left thigh. Billy shifted his weight onto his right heel and crossed his arms to lean against the door. Even though he wouldn't admit it out loud right at this very moment, the young S.T.A.R.S. member had really grown on him. Her lack of spunk was worrying him slightly. He maintained eye contact as she fumbled for the right words to say. "Do you ever just…" She paused, looking down at the Beretta in her hands, "…stare into the mirror and wonder how you can transition so quickly into something you knew you weren't meant to be?" Billy licked his lips nervously—walking over to sit next to Rebecca, the mirror barely capturing any part of his body.

"I watched myself turn from a respected Lieutenant into a falsely accused murderer society would rather dump into a shallow grave than take five seconds to listen to. I can't tell you how many times I was called a bastard, a baby killer. 'Murderer,' they would scream." She stared at him so intensely; it was beginning to make him feel nervous. "Just when you think you might still have an ounce of innocence left in you, they try to take it away with their words and their accusations; their violence and their lack of care. No matter how strong you think you are, it doesn't mean anything when you lose that last bit of self respect you have. I don't have anything left for me—I don't have a reputation, I don't have a name. As far as I'm concerned, society can shove their opinions, they're all ignorant anyways. Don't let this all get to you, dollface—not all at once. The only thing that will change about you tonight is your confidence, courage, and your loss of innocence. The circumstances are the worst they can be, but in the end you'll find who you were meant to be."

"Billy…"

"Just remember how much of life you have left to cling to; think of how much good you'll do with that. In the end we all die who we want to be. I think—no, I _know _that _this_ Rebecca is _exactly _who you were meant to be." Billy grinned, meaning every word and Rebecca couldn't help but grin as well. He seemed like he always knew what to say, whether he knew it or not. "And um…I found a couple of those green and red herbs. I would save you the trouble of mixing them, but—" Rebecca cut him off with a chuckle.

"I'd think that after you'd watching me mix them, oh how many times—that you'd know how to mix them by now. You're not getting a little rusty on me, are you?" Billy rolled his eyes,

"Well, _excuse_ me, princess. It's not _my _fault I don't have the mixing kit, plus _I _didn't graduate college at eighteen as a genius with a degree in, what was it?"

"That's _Officer Chambers _to you, Lieutenant Coen. And no, I never actually revived a degree." Rebecca playfully pouted as she took the herbs and began mixing, giving the herbal mix to Billy as she finished up and reequipped her Beretta. Billy pocketed the medicine and prepared his own Military Issued Handgun.

"Ready?" Billy asked, cocking his gun.

"Ready." Rebecca nodded.

"Then let's go kill us some monsters."


End file.
